


so it goes...

by bellestar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Bathroom Sex, Dancing, F/M, Forbidden Love, Party, Prompt Fill, Reylo - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellestar/pseuds/bellestar
Summary: INDEFINITE WIPRey isn’t allowed to let her eyes wander.  Her leash keeps her within a very small, trusted circle of people who are allowed to be in her orbit.  The very handsome man in the corner looks like he could knock her world off its axis.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 67
Kudos: 171
Collections: Galactic Idiots Collection





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a prompt from [@galacticidiots](https://twitter.com/galacticidiots): Imagine a party. Caviar. Champagne. Rich, important people. Ben sees Rey across the room. He asks her to dance; it’s a waltz. At some point he leans in and whispers:  
> “He knows. Don’t go home.”  
> Dread pools in her stomach. He presses the ghost of a kiss to her cheek and leaves.
> 
> So, here's my little take on that!
> 
> Moodboard commissioned by the wonderful [@driversputa!](https://twitter.com/driversputa)

_See you in the dark  
_ _All eyes on you, my magician  
_ _All eyes on us  
_ _You make everyone disappear, and  
_ _Cut me into pieces  
_ _Gold cage, hostage to my feelings  
_ _Back against the wall  
_ _Trippin', trip-trippin' when you're gone_

It’s another fucking day in paradise, she tells herself. 

Rey stares out the window of the limo, catching her reflection in the dark tinted glass. The delicate ruffled sleeves that hang from her shoulders gently skim across her skin, the asymmetrical hem keeping her from crossing her legs completely. She’s chosen a favorite from her massive collection of couture; the long black silk Chanel with the deep V-neck will do nicely for tonight’s party. Rey opted for the Tiffany teardrop diamond earrings to add just a bit of sparkle to her look. The dress’s silhouette does all the talking for her, just how she prefers it.

The less she has to say, the better.

How many parties does this make it this month? Seven? Eight? She’s lost count. Evenings like this feel like a blur now. The venues change – a hotel ballroom, an investor’s massive mansion – but the people, the aesthetics, even the fucking caviar, are all the same. Rey can nearly recite the menu before she’s arrived, and she can tell the difference between Dom Pérignon and Moët & Chandon. Conversations never stray too far from the topics that she hates to discuss. Rey has never been one for gossip, but she’s learned that every secret from another’s lips is information she may find to be useful later. Especially when it concerns Grandfather.

She feels her phone vibrate in her clutch by her side. Right on schedule. Grandfather is checking to see when she will arrive. Rey always arrives on time – thirty minutes after an event begins. She taps off her response before tossing the phone back inside. 

Grandfather uses her so that he can portray himself to be a family man who found and rescued his granddaughter from a group home. She was 15 years old when the case worker told her that all those years of feeling alone had come to an end. That’s what every 15-year-old orphan wants to hear. Rey thought it would be the happiest day of her life to finally be with family once again.

It didn’t take long before Rey realized that the kindly-looking figure called Grandfather was wearing a mask to hide his true intentions. What began as treating her to all the things that she didn’t know she could have in life – new clothes that came from department stores and not Goodwill, unlimited portions of food that came freshly prepared – soon were turned into tools used to control her. If Rey dared to disobey, the material things she yearned for were taken away. It became easier to play the role of the loving, darling granddaughter than to fight. The material things he gifted her did nothing for her deep desire to have unconditional love, but anything was better than being bounced from foster family to foster family who threw her out when they tired of her.

Grandfather is a very famous political figure with deep ties to organizations of which Rey has only heard whispers. But what little she has heard has sent shivers down her spine. He can destroy her with the snap of his fingers. While freedom away from these pretentious parties and the constant surveillance to ensure she doesn’t stray too far from her cage would be a wish come true, Rey is resigned to that fact that she’s not meant to be more than to be trapped in a constant cycle of wanting the things she can’t have.

So, she dresses in couture, with the most dazzling jewelry and designer heels; her customary uniform when she’s been asked to attend one of these parties. Grandfather expects her to play her role and to play it well.

She knows how to pretend, how to survive.

Rey feels the limo coming to a stop, her cue to double check her makeup before exiting. She takes a wand of pale pink lipstick to touch up and stares at herself in the compact mirror. Not a hair is out of place, the Tiffany earrings bringing attention to her flawless face. The driver opens the door and offers his hand to help her from her seat. 

Cool air gently caresses her cheeks as her eyes focus on the mansion in front of her. It’s the fourth time she’s been here at the McCallister’s, a family who has vested interest in Grandfather’s politics. This is the second party they’ve hosted this month, and Rey feels dread flood her as she walks the stone walkway. The Louboutin heels click softly as she makes her way to the front door.

Rey chooses to ignore the vibration of her phone in the clutch.

_Don’t worry, Grandfather. I’m here on time._

**

She’s sipping Moët & Chandon, pretending to be interested in whatever Kaydel Connix is spewing. Kaydel is a nice girl; a little gossipy, but Rey enjoys her company at these parties. She provides cover when Rey needs to look like she’s fully present when her mind wanders to life beyond the stuffy conversation and predictable cocktail menu.

Dozens of people make their way around her as she shifts in her heels. Rey hears the pressing of lips against cheeks and exaggerated greetings of “it’s so great to see you!” in her ears. Muted colors of evening gowns and tuxes splash against the canvas; the melody from the orchestra playing off in the background. Waiters in crisp white dress shirts and tight smiles offer Moët on trays to ensure glasses are never empty. Her stomach growls, but she just can’t force herself to eat another spinach turnover or spring roll tonight. The caviar is even less appetizing.

Rey tips back her glass, forcing a chuckle at Kaydel droning on about how could Bazine Netal wear that gown from last fall’s Dolce & Gabbana line, when she sees him out of the corner of her eye.

He’s standing to himself, the champagne flute completely engulfed in his massive hand. Rey’s eyes wander over the black tux that’s the color of his wavy hair that lands just below his shoulders. Her heart pounds in her ears when he locks eyes with hers. Rey tears her gaze away to focus on Kaydel, who isn’t aware of what Rey has done.

Rey isn’t allowed to let her eyes wander. Her leash keeps her within a very small, trusted circle of people who are allowed to be in her orbit. The very handsome man in the corner looks like he could knock her world off its axis.

Kaydel stops talking suddenly when Rey feels the heat of another person behind her. Her companion’s eyes have widened to the size of saucers. Rey jerks her head around.

Her world shifts.

He stands behind her, a hint of a smile on those plush lips.

“May I have this dance?” The baritone of his voice rings loud and clear through the haze that Rey finds herself in when she becomes mesmerized by the sight of him.

Wordlessly, she offers him her hand. The Chanel sways as he leads her to the floor.

**

_'Cause we break down a little  
_ _And when you get me alone, it's so simple_  
_'Cause baby, I know what you know  
_ _We can feel it_

The press of his body against hers sets her aflame, his hand clutching hers.

They move in harmony with the music, the rise and fall of their movements making Rey feel weightless in his arms. She silently counts the step in her mind – _quick, quick, quick_. She doesn’t recognize the song the orchestra plays, something Frank Sinatra, she muses. All bands at parties like these play the classics. Her partner keeps them up with time in perfect sync.

It’s as easy as _1, 2, 3._

_Quick, quick, quick._

Rey brings her head up to look up into his face. His expression is blank, but his brown eyes are warm and comforting. She’s not used to looking into such softness this way. So many pairs of eyes stare daggers or question her when she comes to these parties. Those eyes don’t hold the secrets like his do, secrets that she would gladly drown for.

His hand fans against her back, his fingers gently drum against her skin. The feel of his fingertips stirs the embers, specks of fire linger in their wake. His breath against her forehead does little to douse the fire that threatens to burn her alive.

 _They’re burning all the witches even if you’re not one_ , she muses _. Light me up._

He breaks the familiar rhythm, adding a small twirl on the count of 3. Her dress swings with her, the rush of air on her body providing a brief reprieve from the heat that consumes her. His hands catch her when she completes the twirl, their bodies flush as she smells his smoky cologne on his neck.

“You’re really quite good at this,” she murmurs when she feels him leading them back the steps of 1, 2, 3 of their waltz.

“That’s not the only thing I’m good at, doll,” he drawls, the rumble of his voice accelerates the fire burning inside her. She subconsciously bites her bottom lip, her fingers gripping his hand as she feels his cheek against her temple.

She knows this well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story's chapter was brought to you by Taylor Swift and coconut rum. Not sure how long this will go!
> 
> Special love and thank you to [Sophia_Ravencrest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Ravencrest/pseuds/Sophia_Ravencrest), who is an amazing beta and cheerleader! I don't know where any of my stories would be without her.
> 
> I'm also over at [twitter](https://twitter.com/bellestarreylo). Come say hi to me!


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been some time. With the state of the world, with returning to work after working from home, and adjusting to the "new normal", it's been difficult to write Reylo. But I'm back, and I appreciate your love and support.
> 
> Moodboard commissioned by the wonderful [@driversputa!](https://twitter.com/driversputa)

_Met you in a bar  
_ _All eyes on me, your illusion is  
_ _All eyes on us  
_ _I make all your grey days clear and  
_ _Wear you like a necklace  
_ _I'm so chill, but you make me jealous  
_ _But I got your heart  
_ _Skippin', skip-skippin' when I'm gone_

It was a rare night that Rey was allowed to ditch the designer clothes for simple jeans and a white silk blouse. Mitaka had promised her absolute discretion when they pulled up to the dive bar just on the outskirts of town. Grandfather didn’t have to know that she escaped for a night. She would resume her duties in the morning, but for tonight, Rey wanted to be nobody. A nobody who wanted to enjoy a drink and disappear in the crowd.

She had walked in and asked for cheap beer from the bartender. She relished how it hit her tongue so differently from the fine wines she typically is forced to drink at dinner. The smell of freedom felt like a breath of fresh air as she inhaled stale smoke of cigarettes that billowed from the bar patrons around her.

Rey had felt his hand on her back at first as he leaned in to get the bartender’s attention. The black leather of his jacket felt smooth against her arm before his smile had her melting on the bar stool. His smile was bright, welcoming and dangerous.

“Whiskey, neat,” he called out. “And another beer for the lady here.” His eyes shimmered in the dim light, and Rey felt herself gravitating to him. The pull was strong and undeniable as his hand clutched the glass of his drink and the neck of the bottle as he handed it to her.

**

_And our pieces fall  
_ _Right into place  
_ _Get caught up in the moments  
_ _Lipstick on your face  
_ _So it goes…_

Rey’s back slammed against the brick of the bathroom, but the only sensation she felt were his lips on hers.

Their breath was hot, tainted with the taste of beer and whiskey. None of that mattered as her legs wrapped around his waist. His hands tangled into her hair, his lips bruising hers in long, lingering kisses. The way his tongue slid against hers forced the loudest of moans from her mouth as her hips canted against his.

The bathroom door shook with the pounding of a fist, demanding entrance. He ignored the pleas from the outside world as his lips placed open mouth kisses down the column of her throat, a hand reaching beneath the blouse to clutch a breast through the thin fabric of her bra. Her nipple pebbled under his palm, making him groan.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he swore against her skin as her nails raked across his scalp. The leather jacket had been ditched the moment he locked the bathroom door and shoved her against the wall. Her hands moved from the silky strands of his inky black hair to the soft cotton of his white tee under her fingers, and it did nothing to soothe the ache she felt for wanting more.

They both managed to shuck their jeans down to the floor, the feel of his hand against her drenched lace panties causing her to moan loudly. He had silenced her with a searing kiss, his fingers pushing the fabric to the side to gain entrance to her sex. Rey should have felt embarrassed that a total stranger had managed to reduce her to whimpers and a puddle of warmth between her legs. But the way his hand cupped her, and his fingers grazed her sensitive bud, all protests were lost in his kisses.

Rey forgot everything about herself the moment that he filled her; her sense of purpose was completely erased as his hips thrust at a furious pace. She scratched his back with her nails, hoping it would leave a mark. His teeth grazed her shoulder as he fucked into her harder at her pleas. He mumbled how tight, how _perfect_ she felt around his cock, reassuring her that this was the best decision she would ever make. Rey had never made a single choice on her own, and to be wrapped completely around this man was the only thing she felt she had done right in her life. She would completely own this decision for as long as she lived.

Their cries were strangled when they both came over the edge together. His kisses were soft as her feet hit the floor and his arms held her trembling body. Between the mind-blowing orgasm and the thrill of doing this away from her cage, aware from the prying eyes of Grandfather, Rey felt boneless, sated, and free. The sweetness that came from his lips to her ears provided her a soft landing as she came down from her high.

“I have to see you again,” he muttered. “Please, when can I see you?”

Rey responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, taking his breath just as he had taken her heart. He begged against her lips, to give him more, to give him more than just this encounter in this seedy bathroom. Rey shook her head against his nose, feeling her heart crack as his brown eyes bored into hers.

“This is not meant to be,” she whispered.

“It can be if you would let it,” he countered. 

“I’m not mean to be wild and free,” she admitted. The way he gingerly pushed some of the fallen strands of hair behind her ear felt like a balm to her heart. He was gentle, and strong, and everything she wanted and everything she couldn’t have.

“Neither am I, but together we could, Rey. You and me. We could be.”

Tears pricked at her eyes, her voice breaking as she cried his name against his lips.

“Ben.”

**

_I'm yours to keep  
_ _And I'm yours to lose  
_ _You know I'm not a bad girl, but I_  
_Do bad things with you  
_ _So it goes…_

The spin does more than make her dress wrap around them as the music swells. His lips press against her hair, sending a surge of electricity through her. He certainly does nothing to calm the flames that threaten to burn them both where they dance.

“Rey,” he says her name reverently. Rey forces herself to look up at him, her eyes catching his whiskey colored ones. The grip he has on her hand tightens.

“We can’t do this,” she tells him.

“But we can,” he replies simply.

Rey shakes her head. “Ben, our families are on opposite sides—”

“You think I give a damn about that?” His tone never waivers from being serious but not unkind. “I don’t care about what they think, about what any of these people think.”

The way he makes promises that she can’t imagine anyone would ever be able to keep breaks her heart. Rey stops moving, their dancing coming to an abrupt end while the orchestra continues to play a Sinatra tune. The sound of her drumming heartbeat in her ears is all she can hear. Ben tucks his bottom lip through his teeth, regarding the predicament that they are in as they stand in the middle of the dancefloor.

Rey can see on his face that he’s trying to find something that will change her mind about this. It didn’t take long after meeting him that night in the bar to realize that he was Ben Solo, son of Han Solo and Leia Organa. 

Sworn enemies of Grandfather’s. 

The feud between the families goes back for generations, and if anyone knows, if Grandfather ever found out that she had spent an evening with Ben…

She doesn’t want to think about what would happen.

Rey thinks that Ben is about to kiss her when he starts to lean in. Her mind whirls, desperate to figure out how to keep this secret safe. He doesn’t kiss her on the lips, but instead pushes some hair from her face to hide his lips behind her ear. Maybe he is going to whisper more sweet things like he said to her that night in the bathroom. 

Ben says something else instead.

“He knows. Don’t go home.”

Dread pools in her stomach. Ben presses the ghost of a kiss to her cheek and leaves Rey dumbfounded on the dance floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew.
> 
> \--
> 
> This story is based on a prompt from [@galacticidiots](https://twitter.com/galacticidiots): Imagine a party. Caviar. Champagne. Rich, important people. Ben sees Rey across the room. He asks her to dance; it’s a waltz. At some point he leans in and whispers:  
> “He knows. Don’t go home.”  
> Dread pools in her stomach. He presses the ghost of a kiss to her cheek and leaves.
> 
> Special love and thank you to [Sophia_Ravencrest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Ravencrest/pseuds/Sophia_Ravencrest), who is an amazing beta and cheerleader! I don't know where any of my stories would be without her.
> 
> I'm also over at [twitter](https://twitter.com/bellestarreylo). Come say hi to me!


End file.
